


teeth in the grass

by billionairevolleyboysclub



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Violence, Warnings for Chapter 53/54 content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billionairevolleyboysclub/pseuds/billionairevolleyboysclub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he gets to where Armin is standing, it’s an automatic reflex to reach out and pull him back from the man as if pulling him away from a rabid animal. </p><p>“Armin.”</p><p>It takes a second before he looks up at Jean expectantly, blue eyes wide.</p><p>“Let me take care of it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	teeth in the grass

**Author's Note:**

> Some Ch. 53/54 jearmin fix-it fic since apparently this pairing is going to drag me back into writing fic. Cross-posted at my tumblr under the same name. This whole thing is basically just Jean "taking care of it".

It takes Jean approximately five seconds after being captured to decide that this mission is so obviously fucked.

He’s pinned by some burly thugs and his head keeps ricocheting painfully against the floor of the wagon every time it crosses over a particularly rough patch of road. Next to him, Armin lets out a short whimper as an equally burly thug pulls the rope binding his hands tight. Even from his position on the floor, Jean notices the edges of Armin’s hair peeking out from under the unnaturally pale wig as he’s jostled into a sitting position along the wall of the wagon.

A voice from somewhere above him drawls on about how he expected the infamous Eren Jaeger to put up more of a fight while Jean just grits his teeth and glares at nothing in particular. He graciously ignores Armin, curled up a corner of the wagon and sending Jean a concerned gaze.

..  
..

The next time Jean can’t meet Armin’s gaze, he can feel the blood pounding in his ears.

His chest feels tight, constricted with anger or disgust or some nameless mixture of the two and Armin’s expression weighs inside his mind even as he can’t help but grimace and turn away. Just yesterday, Jean had joked around with Armin as they sat together in the dining room looking at Erwin’s plan outline again.

“Hey, at least if you can pass as Krista it’s a testament to your good looks.”

“Historia.”

“What?”

“It’s Historia, not Krista remember?” Armin corrected, not looking away from the mission plans in his hands, but Jean noticed the ends of his mouth curling up in a small, pleased smile and he sat back, satisfied.

Now, he was feeling slightly sick.

_“I want to hear your voice since you’re such a beauty.”_

His lip curled up in disgust. What he wouldn’t give for Levi or Mikasa to burst in right about now to obliterate this sick fuck.

..  
..

Jean sometimes forgets what vicious forces of nature the rest of the squad can be, particularly Levi and Mikasa. Especially Levi and Mikasa actually. Mikasa cuts through the rope around his wrists with a single swipe of her blade, does the same to Armin’s, and is gone before Jean can even begin to mutter a thank you.

His immediate response is to check on Armin, who at this point had regained most of his composure, but he grits his teeth instead and stays put, holding the segments of rope behind his back for when their captors return.

It isn’t until the gang of thugs are all bound and gagged on the floor of the warehouse that Jean gets the opportunity to look for Armin again. His stomach turns when he spots him, holding the same sick fuck’s gag in his hand and looking stunned.

Jean curses under his breath, and the same angry pounding reverberates throughout his skull, his fingers itching to pound _something_ to make up for earlier. And Jean never considered himself a particularly violent person.

_“… Do something about it.”_

When he gets to where Armin is standing, it’s an automatic reflex to reach out and pull him back from the man as if pulling him away from a rabid animal.

“Armin.”

It takes a second before he looks up at Jean expectantly, blue eyes wide.

“Let me take care of it.”

Behind them, the man is still giving off short pants, and Armin nods a bit to himself, shrugging off Jean’s hand and walking to where Mikasa and Levi are beginning to clear out with his arms wrapped loosely around himself.

Jean watches him go before turning back to the man and catching his gaze still trailing after Armin, causing a resurgence of anger. _He’s even uglier than the titans this close up_.

The gag Armin dropped earlier is still on the floor, and he promptly snatches it up, taking little satisfaction when the man lets out a small, pained noise as Jean pulls the gag tight around his mouth.

Jean steps back, fists balled and contempt still simmering through his veins. He thinks back to when Eren fought Annie, a dramatic collision of pure rage and hurt radiating off of him in waves while he employed a sort of fierce fighting style only a hotheaded idiot like Eren Jaeger could pull off.

He knew his own hand to hand skills were nowhere near as precise as Annie’s, or even Eren’s if he was being honest with himself, and childhood scuffles back in Trost that were the result of being a smartass twelve year old weren’t exactly the best way to develop his fighting prowess either. Yet, remembering Armin’s face when they were bound makes him believe he can beat this son of a bitch senseless.

Jean curses under his breath, raises his fists, and swings.

..  
..

Later, he catches Armin staring at the long gashes across his knuckles from where his fist had grazed the man’s teeth once the gag slipped off.

Armin opens his mouth as if to say something, but Eren and Mikasa enter the room at that moment, and Armin shuts his mouth instead, head falling to stare at the table and expression utterly abject.

Jean places a gentle hand on his shoulder, hiding his grazed knuckles behind his back. Armin’s shoulders seem to relax under his palm, and he notices Eren trying to bore a hole through Jean’s hand with the force of his stare.

He keeps his hand on Armin until they’re dismissed to their rooms.

..  
..

By the time Jean gets back to his room after avoiding a little heart-to-heart with Sasha ( _You sure do watch Armin a lot don’t you? ... Sasha please just wrap my hand._ ), Connie is facedown in his bunk and completely _out_.

Jean snorted, beginning to strip his own shirt off when there was a small knock on the door, Armin’s head peering in a second later.

“Jean?”

“Hold on,” Jean replied, pulling his shirt back on hastily and pulling the door shut behind him as to not disturb Connie.

The dim lighting of the hallway shrouded Armin in shadows and Jean squinted, trying to discern the object in Armin’s hand.

“Connie told me you were looking for some bandages earlier.” Armin remarked softly, holding up a roll.

Jean held up his tightly wrapped knuckles for Armin’s inspection, wincing slightly as he tried to wiggle his fingers.

“Sorry, Sasha got to me first.”

“Ah.”

Armin let out a short breath, eyes slipping shut as his head fell back to lean on the wall behind him. Observing the pale stretch of Armin’s neck for a second, Jean realized this was their first conversation since that morning, as they prepared for the mission.

“Hey,” Jean began quietly, causing Armin’s eyes to reopen and glance his way, “are you alright?”

Armin’s mouth opened fractionally and closed again before he nodded slightly.

“Just tired at this point.”

 _He definitely looks tired_ , Jean thought, observing the slump of his shoulders.

“…but I still wanted to say thank you.” Armin continues, tilting his head to look Jean in the eye, “Thank you for making up for my weakness during the mission today.”

Jean felt a familiar frustration with the direction the conversation was taking.

“That wasn’t weakness Armin. You were rendered vulnerable in the context of the situation, hell who wouldn’t be? It had nothing to do with your own strength.”

“You weren’t.”

“Oh believe me, I was.” Jean grimaced, thinking of the chafing on his wrists from where the rope began to bite into his skin.

Armin shrugged, uncharacteristically unwilling to argue his point, and Jean thought he must be even more exhausted than he was letting on.

“Either way, I just wanted to say thank you anyway.”

Armin pushed off the wall, stepping close to Jean and leaning forward somewhat hesitantly.

It took Jean a second to process Armin’s actions, and before he knew what was happening Armin’s hands were on his shoulders and there was a soft, wet pressure against the corner of his mouth.

The sensation was altogether fleeting, and strands of Armin’s hair brushed his face as he pulled away slowly.

“Goodnight Jean.”

An invigorating surge told him not to let Armin leave just yet, and he reached out to take a hold of Armin’s chin before angling his face toward him and taking Armin’s bottom lip between his own.

Armin let out a small sound of surprise before returning the pressure, mouth falling open to melt against Jean’s.

It was over much too quickly again, as Armin turned his head to the side, leaving Jean’s mouth to rest against Armin’s burning cheek.

“ _Goodnight_ Jean” Armin repeated, a small smile on his flushed face.

Jean grinned, pulling away and dropping his hold on Armin’s face.

“Goodnight Armin.”

He watched him leave, clutching the roll of bandages to his chest and taking a sharp left at the end of the hallway.

Armin is out of sight before Jean can suggest they wake Connie up and promptly kick him out, if only to maintain his proximity with Armin.

 _Too late_ , Jean thought, stepping back into the room and forgetting to shut the door behind him softly.

Connie’s groggy voice cuts through the darkness.

“Wassit Armin? Didja finally kiss him?”

“No,” Jean replies, pulling his shirt over his head, “it was actually Sasha coming to confess her undying love for me.”

He revels in the strangled noise Connie makes before reaching over to extinguish the lantern by his bedside.


End file.
